We fell into step and I asked how Nathan was.
‘Obsessed with office politics. But you know the form.’ She gave a short, unhappy laugh. ‘How’s this? I run off with your husband and he turns into a prize bore. Even funnier, I’ve become a prize bore too.’
Her lips were chapped and bitten.
‘You look a bit run down. Are you OK?’
She patted her stomach. ‘It hurts, dammit, trying to get pregnant. It’s a pretty bloody awful procedure. Apparently I should have taken more care when I was living the good life. But it was fun. I wasn’t to know the consequences.’ The dark eyes did not blink as she looked at me. ‘The funny ha-ha thing is I told Nathan I didn’t come with a past. No ghosts, I said.’
‘I’m sorry’
‘Don’t waste your energy’
We came to a halt by the swing doors. As usual, Charlie was behind the entrance desk. When he saw me, he saluted and I smiled back.
‘You’ve done it all correctly, Rose. A nice husband, a nice house, two point four children, and a career. But be happy, Rose, you’re free now.’
I stiffened with dislike. ‘I think there are a few things you’ve missed out.’ What exactly? Humiliation, betrayal and an almost bottomless sense of failure… The fear of vanishing. Anger, acid and bitter. Desperation at the idea that I had been weighed and assessed by this woman with my husband’s complicity. The death of a marriage.
But the failure had been not so much what had gone wrong in Nathan’s and my marriage but what had not been going particularly right. Into that dangerous space, Minty had crept.
Minty scrabbled at my sleeve. ‘Nathan rants and raves about having some peace and how we can’t afford it. But I say that I have my side of the equation to think about. Just because I ran off with him doesn’t mean I don’t have a voice. I tell him I’m owed that.’
I had a vision of Minty and Nathan moving around Lakey Street, occupying separate rooms, separate thoughts, and I could not bear it for him. Perhaps this was the last thing I would do for Nathan, but I went to his defence: ‘Nathan will listen. If you don’t know that, Minty, then you don’t know him.’ I wanted to say ‘deserve him’. ‘You told me once he was a nice man, a pussy-cat.’
She bit her lip, and a tiny point of blood welled on it. ‘That was at the infatuation stage.’
I felt as though I had pushed open a door into a room that contained something very unpleasant. ‘Minty…’
She turned on me furiously. ‘I don’t want to live in your house either. I don’t want you peering at me from the corners. I don’t want your bloody wallpaper.’
‘Change it.’
Her eyes narrowed angrily. ‘Nathan says we can’t afford it.’
I took a step towards her. ‘Listen to me. You helped to destroy a marriage. You got what you wanted. You make it work.’
She raised those unblinking eyes to mine, but there was no comfort any more in their dark depth. That had vanished. ‘The joke is,’ the words dropped from the chapped lips, ‘I haven’t told Nathan yet but, against the odds – against what I deserve is what the medics mean
I rang Timon the following day and told him I would not accept his offer. He sighed. ‘You’re not doing me any favours but, then, I couldn’t expect you to.’
I said something that surprised me: ‘Let’s keep in touch.’
I told Ianthe about Timon’s offer and my reply as I drove her to the hospital. Ianthe clicked her tongue. ‘Don’t you need a proper, settled job?’
‘Possibly, but not that one.’ I glanced sideways. ‘I wouldn’t mind doing some travelling.’
‘Not
By ‘muddle’ she meant Hal. ‘I don’t think so. Not this time.’
Ianthe was not impressed and tried one last assault. ‘Are you sure you shouldn’t talk to Nathan?’
‘Yes.’
The hospital came into sight and Ianthe gave a little gasp. ‘Rose, I don’t want to go in. Can we drive round the block again?’
Eventually we went into the car park and slotted into a space. I stopped the engine and we sat still and silent. ‘I’ll come and see you every day, Mum.’
‘I don’t want to be a trouble.’ Ianthe grasped the crocodile bag on her knee. ‘You come in when you can. I don’t want anybody making a fuss. I don’t want anybody fretting.’
This was bit like instructing a snowflake not to melt in the sun but I leant over and kissed her. I summoned every ounce of self-control and said, ‘It’ll go fine, and you’ll be out in a trice.’
‘Your father was hopeless with illness.’ The dreamy little smile that always appeared when she talked about him played on her lips. Taney, for a doctor.’
‘Doctors know too much.’
Ianthe smiled at me. ‘I’m glad it’s you taking me in. He’d have been no good at all.’
That was the best compliment my mother could ever have paid me. I swallowed hard. ‘Mum, you go in, I’ll follow with the stuff.’
Ianthe got out. I went round to the boot and pulled out her case. There she was, framed in the hospital doors, which swooshed back. Handbag swinging over her arm, Ianthe stepped inside, and the doors closed behind her.
The streets of the city were filled with young women as I drove back through the warm evening. Bright, glossy, anticipating, they wore short skirts, cropped tops and strappy high heels. They had slender feet and rainbow nails. In the eyes and eager expressions were reflected lust, energy and greed. No grief yet. Or they hid it well. They ranted in groups, or glided singly along the pavements with rustling supermarket bags, rucksacks and shoulder- bags. Some sucked bottles of beer, some bottles of water.
The sun dipped in the sky and sweat gathered on my top lip. I thought of bitter black coffee and music. Of reading books and the glimmer of white roses in the dusk. I thought of deep, tearing sorrow, then remembered – and anticipated – the exhaustion after a night of lovemaking. I thought of grief and its fallout, and the beauty of lit candles. I thought of Parsley, and the part of my life that was over. I thought of how it was possible both to shrink and unfold, how I had experienced both, and how the unfolding at forty-eight was both joyous and unexpected. And would continue for a long time.
I thought, most vividly and longingly, of my children. That first glimpse of Sam. Still confused from pain and the outrage of giving birth, I had accepted without interest the bundle placed in my arms. At first, neither of us registered the other. Then, quiet before the adventure of his life got under way, the baby fixed on my face. In those wide, calm eyes were surprise and astonishment at the prospect of the new world he had entered. A gaze that took me back to the beginning, ready to start again.
When I got back to Lakey Street, the answerphone was flashing. ‘Mum,’ Sam sounded happy, ‘can we come over for supper? Jilly and I have sorted our plans and we want to talk them over.’
‘Rose,’ Timon clipped in, ‘I forgot. I owe you lunch at the Caprice…’
‘Mother,’ this was an indignant Poppy, ‘where have you been? I’ve been calling and calling. I need your advice, so hit the phone.’
‘Rose,’ Vee was harassed, ‘I’ve got something that needs doing yesterday. Call
Next was Nathan. He sounded very far away. ‘Rose, all set for moving next week. There are a couple of things we need to clear up. Could you possibly give me a call in the office? Jean will patch you through.’
Finally, there was Hal, sounding much closer: ‘Rose, there’s a return air ticket to Pisa for you in the post. No questions, I’m paying. I owe it to you. I’ll meet you there on the Thursday. Good luck with the move.’
